


epilogue (everything must come and go)

by Aenqa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Compliant, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 15, Sad!!, i hope this isn't how it actually goes but this is how i imagine it would go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenqa/pseuds/Aenqa
Summary: The war is won; the story reaches its finale; and its epilogue widens in front of Dean like an open field, a boundless future without direction, without limitation. His head feels empty, his chest light, in a way it hasn’t for years; in a way it maybe never has.His first thought, guided by an instinct which no longer surprises him, is of Castiel. But Cas will barely look at him, barely meets his gaze. When they finally reach the bunker, Cas is nothing more than his retreat, his back turned to Dean as he heads directly to his room.And Dean is willing, at first, to give him space; to let him recover. But only a minute later, with Sam and Eileen having already taken their leave, he decides this moment can’t wait another day. Can’t wait another second.It’s time.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	epilogue (everything must come and go)

The war is won; the story reaches its finale; and its epilogue widens in front of Dean like an open field, a boundless future without direction, without limitation. His head feels empty, his chest light, in a way it hasn’t for years; in a way it maybe never has.

His first thought, guided by an instinct which no longer surprises him, is of Castiel. But Cas will barely look at him, barely meets his gaze. When they finally reach the bunker, Cas is nothing more than his retreat, his back turned to Dean as he heads directly to his room.

And Dean is willing, at first, to give him space; to let him recover. But only a minute later, with Sam and Eileen having already taken their leave, he decides this moment can’t wait another day. Can’t wait another second.

It’s time.

Castiel’s door is closed, which is unusual. And it takes him a long moment to answer Dean’s knock, which is even more unusual. And most unusual of all is that when the door finally inches open, Cas stands there looking nervous – looking afraid. Looking, for all the world, as though the ultimate victory had not just been won. As though they weren’t free to be finally be happy.

“Can I come in?” Dean asks, and Cas motions him in silently. Dean enters, hears the door close behind him, feels his heartbeat leap in his chest, feels the rush of heady anticipation he had denied himself for far too long.

(Feels confused at Cas’s expression. Wonders if he judged things wrong. Knows that can’t be true. Knows what’s true.)

“I had something I wanted to say to you,” Dean says, sitting on the end of Cas’s bed. Cas is standing in front of him, his arms crossed and his eyebrows knitted together.

“I told you, Dean, you don’t have to say anything. I heard you in Purgatory. I accepted your apology.” His voice is almost trembling. Dean can’t understand it.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” he says quietly.

The words hang in the dead silence so delicately. This conversation is so fragile, like a sheet of glass, and the importance of it resounds in Dean’s racing heartbeat. He doesn’t know how to do this. And he especially doesn’t when Cas, suddenly, shakes his head, takes a step back.

“No, Dean,” he whispers, “no.”

The world doesn’t shatter, doesn’t break, because Dean is too sure of this to take Cas’s words at surface level. He stands to meet Cas and reaches out, takes Cas’s hands in his, and sees Cas swallow, sees him look down at their hands with unmasked emotion, unqualified longing.

Dean knows what’s true.

“Cas, we don’t have to be scared anymore,” Dean murmurs, almost choking around the knot of emotion in his throat, feeling the years of sadness and anger and self-hatred as much as he feels their melting away. “We’re safe, now, we… we don’t have to protect ourselves, we don’t have to protect each other. We can…” he loses his words, and instead he brings Cas’s hand to his mouth. He presses a kiss against Cas’s knuckles, against his palm.

He looks up and sees Cas’s face crumbling, sees his face going soft and full of heartache.

“Cas, I -,”

“Don’t,” Castiel says and places his other hand against Dean’s chest, clutching his fist in Dean's shirt. The touch is tender, but his eyes are full of conflict, and he whispers, “Please don’t, Dean. Please don’t say it. You don’t understand. I can’t…”

Dean grips Cas’s hand with his right hand. With his other hand, he touches Cas’s face, sweeps his thumb over Cas’s cheek. Sees Cas shiver, sees his eyelids fall.

And then Dean presses forward and kisses him.

And at first there’s still this hesitation, this anxiety, in the way Cas tenses – but then he hears Cas shudder and he’s kissing back fully, making little, desperate grabs at Dean’s shirt to pull him closer. And Dean pushes him carefully back against the wall, kisses him again and again, running his hands over Cas’s chest, through his hair. The tension melts out of his shoulders, and Dean grins despite himself, so overwhelmed with happiness and lightness. He presses kisses into Cas’s cheek, under his ear, against his neck…

“I love you, Cas,” he whispers into the crook of Cas’s neck, and Cas pulls him closer, buries his face into Dean’s shoulder, whispers with a broken voice, “Dean… Dean.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” says the creature standing behind Dean’s back.

Dean freezes.

And Cas crumbles, slumping backwards against the wall, trembling under Dean’s hands, his eyes wide and his face pale.

“What’s happening?” Dean asks slowly.

And Cas says those words, those blasted, godforsaken words that Dean had hoped he would never have to hear again.

He says, “I made a deal.”

The panic begins as a cold stab in Dean’s chest and bleeds quickly into his veins, into his head, turning his thoughts sharp and dangerous. He turns, keeping his arm out and extended in front of Castiel with the vain hope that he could protect him, that he could still stop this.

The inky black thing standing in front of him has a face not quite a woman’s, not quite a man’s, not quite a human’s, a form shifting slightly in the low light, changing like an optical illusion in front of him.

What it looks like doesn’t matter.

What it _is_ doesn’t matter.

Dean is not going to let it hurt Castiel.

“I don’t know what you came here to do,” Dean says, “but in case you didn’t hear, the whole slate kind of just got wiped clean. You don’t have any business here.”

The thing sort of smiles and its teeth are sharp, or maybe they aren’t teeth at all. Dean's vision can't quite focus on it, like it is an anomaly of space-time, inconsistent with reality. “If you think my dealings are affected by God, you couldn’t be more wrong, Winchester. I’ll be generous and give you one moment more, but I will not leave without my share of the bargain.”

Dean takes a step towards it, reaching for a weapon (not there, not with him, he put them all away, this was supposed to be _over,_ this was meant to be _done with_ ) but Castiel’s hand catches his arm, and he is pulled around to face the angel, who fixes his eyes solely onto Dean’s face, his expression now pulled into something brave and determined.

(Dean can see right through it. Dean knows, better than anyone, how Castiel feels in this moment.)

“Dean,” Cas breathes, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Please forgive me.”

“What is happening, Cas? When did this -?”

“It doesn’t matter, except that it’s done, and it had to be done,” Cas says resolutely, twisting his fingers into Dean’s jacket, leaning so slightly towards him, his gaze roving across Dean’s face. “It had to.” He shrugs helplessly. “It was for Jack.”

Dean lets out a shuddering breath, drops his head. Of course. Of course…

“Please tell me you forgive me,” Cas pleads quietly.

“Of course I forgive you, Cas, this isn’t –,”

Castiel pushes forward and presses a sad, soft kiss against his mouth. Dean kisses him back helplessly.

They break away, and Cas meets his gaze resolutely. He brings a hand to Dean’s face and brushes his thumb across Dean’s lips, across his cheek. His expression is so familiar now, so full of affection and grief, that Dean can’t stand it.

“If there is a way,” Castiel says, “we’ll find it.”

And then Dean is left clutching empty air.


End file.
